Brother
by 31ofdecember
Summary: Sadness is, when experienced together, something of great warmth. Mello and his sister Elena try to find their parents' murderers only to find themselves pitted against an even more ruthless and bloodthirsty killer Kira.


Fire.

It was the only thing she could see. The rooms that had once been so tastefully furnished and decorated were now consumed in an inferno of smoke and flame. Her eyes burned and she choked, every breath becoming increasingly more difficult, as the blaze continued.

"Mama! Papa!" She screamed, stumbling down the fume-filled hallway, hands futilely reaching out for anything that could help her find the way out. "Mihael! Where are you?" She called for her family but no response came. The sea of flames around her danced, cruelly taunting her in her plight.

Panic began to settle in as she moved faster. Her foot landed on something hard, the edge of an overturned chair, and her ankle gave in, forcing her to lean against the wall for support.

"Damn it," she swore, wincing at the growing pain in her ankle. She could feel her rapid heartbeat in the thumping injury, and realized there was no way she would be walking much further. Breathing was becoming laborious. Stars appeared before her as she fell to her knees and slumped towards the ground. It was not the death she had imagined for herself.

_But I guess this doesn't feel so bad after all,_ she thought.

Chapter 1.

She awoke to a white ceiling. The lights were so bright they blinded her. Groggily, she forced attempted to get up, only to gasp from the excruciating pain that shot up from her left foot.

"Don't move, Elena." She recognized that voice and breathed a sigh of relief. Her brother was okay.

He had gotten up from his chair next to her and walked to her side. "You sprained your ankle pretty badly. There's a brace on it but you're going to need crutches for a week."

She nodded, and suddenly remembered why she was there in the first place. The deafening, midnight fire alarm. Their house engulfed in flames.

"What happened back there, Mihael? I thought… I thought I was going to die," she said, her voice trembling.

Her brother looked down. "I don't know," he muttered quietly, lips pursed. His eyes were puffy and his expression painful. "Elena… Mom and Dad are dead."

Her heart stopped. A myriad of clashing thoughts and memories raced through her head. Dead? How could it be? What were they going to do? Her breaths quickened as tears began to flow down her cheeks. Mihael moved closer and put his arms around her, having no desire to say anymore. No words could help them right now, anyway.

She sobbed onto her brother's shoulder, no longer paying any heed to her aching ankle. Her brother's grip around her became tighter as she noticed he too was silently crying. A nurse entered the room and tentatively stood to the side with her clipboard, painfully waiting for the right moment to tell them that the girl was clear for discharge.

Mihael wept quietly, holding his sister, the only family he had left. But unlike Elena's, his tears were those of anger. He was devastated and outraged; he didn't believe that the fire was an accident for a second, despite the results of the police's investigation and the conclusive filed report. No. Somebody had tried to murder them, but for what purpose he couldn't fathom. He however swore to himself that no matter how long he lived he would hunt the culprit that senselessly killed his parents and robbed his beloved sister of her innocence.

He hastily wiped away his tears as he turned to address the nurse. He could see the pity in her eyes and felt his anger boiling.

"The doctor says she's ready for discharge. A notice has been sent to the downtown children's orphanage of your situation, and your escort there will be arriving shortly. We will wait for you in the lobby," she said. She paused at the doorway before exiting the room. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Mihael snickered at her words. The nurse's expression immediately changed from sympathy to confusion.

"What the FUCK do you know about what we're going through right now?" He hissed, eyes full of contempt.

"Mihael," Elena whispered, taking his hand. "Please, don't. Not now."

Mihael's heart ached at the sight of his sister, whose cheeks were still stained with tears. He averted his gaze and swallowed, looking back at the wide-eyed nurse. "I'm sorry. Thank you for your service." The nurse nodded uncomfortably and scurried out of the room. Mihael helped his sister out of bed and onto the crutches, and they made their way to the front lobby, where the nurse stood with an unusually tall, thin man, who received them. He wore an old top hat and a rather mismatched outfit that consisted of a frilly dress shirt, black pants, and a pair of garish, red shoes.

"Mihael and Elena Keehl?" He asked, examining them from head to toe. Mihael nodded, eyeing the man suspiciously. Mihael decided he didn't really like the looks of whoever this was, and reminded himself to keep his guard up.

"I am Mr. Mench, the director of the Bergkamen Children's Orphanage. We will be housing you for a while until we find you a proper foster family. Come this way." Bidding goodbye to the nurse, they followed him to a fancy Mercedes parked in the corner of the lot. "Unfortunately the belongings you lost in the fire were not insured and thus are permanently lost. Your parents however did leave money in your name."

Mihael and Elena barely acknowledged the rest of what he was saying, which blended together into a string of monotonous financial jargon, as they gazed out the window, tightly holding onto each others hands. Elena rested her head on her brother's shoulders as he gently ran his other hand through her thick, blonde hair.

"Everything's going to be okay," he whispered. "As long as we have each other."


End file.
